A Young Man's Tale
by Saja Natalia
Summary: Not everything can be forgotten. Some things will stay with you, no matter what. One night in a bar, a man spills his life's story out to the innocent barman, a story of love, loss, and regret. SouMisao
1. Introduction

Summary: Not everything can be forgotten. Some things will stay with you, no matter what. One night in a bar, a man spills his life's story out to the innocent barman, a story of love, loss, and regret. SouMisao

Disclaimer: I do not own Sojiro, Misao, Kamatari, Kenshin, or anyone else that may show up in this story. Rurouni Kenshin and everything related to it belongs to Shonen Jump and Nobuhiro Watsuki. All I own is the barman, and he doesn't even have a name.

Author's note: I've heard that this is a little choppy, and I will try to revise it and fix it as I go along. By the end it should be much better. As for the vague descriptions in the bar, it's meant to be that way. Just one more way I seclude the present from the past.

A Young Man's Tale

By: SajaNatalia, alias Kasumi-kun

_"Not everything can be forgotten. _

_Some things will stay with you, _

_No matter what, residing at the back_

_Of your mind forever."_

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Present:

In the Bar

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"More!"

"No, sir," the barman replied to the only customer left in the room. It was well early into the morning, and this young man seemed to be the only person left inside the dark bar. "I'm afraid I can't give you any more."

"Aw, why not?" the drunken man asked, shoving his ceramic cup in the barman's direction. "Can't you spare some for me? Just this once?"

The barman shook his head, wiping his hands on his apron. "I'm sorry, sir, but no."

The drunk gave him a horrible look, his blue eyes enough to send shivers down the barman's spine. "I asked for another. You're going to give it to me." The man pushed his shaggy black hair out of his face, showing a fierce expression. "Understand?"

Shaking his head, the barman refused once more. "I can't serve you any more, sir."

Furious, the drunk shot up onto his feet, his hands clasping at the man's green gi, lifting him off of the ground. "_Do it_."

Suddenly, the drunk's eyes softened. Setting the man down, the drunk begged, "Please."

"Sir?"

The drunk shook his head, still standing before the barman and swaying slightly. "You wouldn't be interested in my story. It's far too complex for you, too much you wouldn't understand."

"I-I could try, sir," the barman replied, stepping back a bit from the man.

"STOP CALLING ME SIR!" the drunk suddenly yelled, his face red, and his hands balled into fists. "I've got a name! Use it!"

"B-but you haven't told me it yet," the barman protested, shielding his face with his hands. "I can't use it if I don't know it."

"FINE!" the drunk shouted, throwing his hands in the air, glaring and pointing at the man. "FINE! YOU WANNA KNOW IT? YOU WANNA KNOW THE NAME I'M STUCK WITH? THE NAME BINDING ME? IT'S SOJIRO! SETA SOJIRO!"

The barman cowered a bit before replying. "Yes, erm, Sojiro-san, was it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, erm, you speak rather roughly for such a young man. What's your story? It must be tough," the barman said, leaning over to see the man as he sat back down.

"You really wanna know?" Sojiro asked, a mistrusting expression on his face, and his eyes narrowed. "Really?"

The barman shrugged. "I've got nothing else to do, and it's been a while since I've heard a drunk's tale. You want to tell?"

"Fine," Sojiro responded. "But only if you give me another cup of sake." Sighing, the barman reluctantly complied. It seemed that this rough man's story had caught his attention.

"Now tell me," he said, handing the cup to Sojiro. He sipped it slowly, a look of relief playing on his features as the liquid slipped down his throat. "You really wanna know?" he asked the man again. The barman nodded once more.

Sighing, Sojiro set down his cup and stared the man in the eyes. "Alright, I'll tell you."


	2. A Simple Suggestion

Summary: Not everything can be forgotten. Some things will stay with you, no matter what. One night in a bar, a man spills his life's story out to the innocent barman, a story of love, loss, and regret. SouMisao

Disclaimer: I do not own Sojiro, Misao, Kamatari, Kenshin, or anyone else that may show up in this story. Rurouni Kenshin and everything related to it belongs to Shonen Jump and Nobuhiro Watsuki. All I own is the barman, and he doesn't even have a name.

Author's note: I'm going to fix this as I go along. Please leave any criticisms you have in a review, and they will most likely be fixed in the story. Thank you so much!

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Present

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"Now tell me," the barman said, handing the cup to Sojiro.

"You really wanna know?" he asked the man again. The barman nodded once more. Sighing, Sojiro set down his cup and stared the man in the eyes. "Alright, I'll tell you."

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Sojiro's Tale:

A Simple Suggestion

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"So-chan!"

Sojiro turned to see who had spoken. Before him stood what appeared to be a woman dressed in a blue kimono with a rope obi, but Sojiro knew better. "Why, Kamatari-san! How are you? I haven't seen you in quite a while."

"Yeah, I've been abroad," the cross dresser answered, a smile flitting across his girlish features. "Spying and such. It's such dull work, really. No one even stands a chance against me if they try to attack. It's so good to be back in Japan where the fighters are tough."

"Yes, and in Kyoto, as well," Sojiro replied, smiling as well. "It's been some time now since I've been here. In fact, I haven't been here since...well...the incident with Shishio-san."

This seemed to sober Kamatari, for he began toying with his new scythe and his features fell. "Yeah. I guess you're right." Suddenly, he forced a smile back onto his face. "So what're you doing around here, anyway? Trying to pick some fights?"

Sojiro shook his head. "No, just passing through."

He and Kamatari continued walking for a few minutes in silence. The forest around them blocked the sun, a fact for which Sojiro was grateful. The summer was always unbearably hot around here, and as a wanderer, he was forced to deal with the elements.

Suddenly, Kamatari came to a halt in the middle of a clearing. "Hey, kiddo, do you hear that?" Kamatari asked, his arm flung in front of Sojiro to stop him from moving, and his eyes fixed ahead. Sojiro barely avoided tripping over a root. "Sounds like someone's following us," he whispered.

Sojiro nodded, his hand creeping towards his katana. Just then, a dagger went flying through the air and imbedded itself in a tree trunk about three inches to the right of where Sojiro's head had been.

"In the name of the Kyoto Oniwabanshu, I demand that you stop right there!"

Sojiro whirled around, unsheathing his katana in the process. The voice had come from a leafy bush slightly to his right. Kamatari brought the scythe into a ready position in case he needed it as Sojiro spoke to the leaves. "Who are you and why do you demand such a thing? What power do you have here?"

A young girl stepped from the bushes, a twig or two embedded in her hair and her ridiculous blue ninja outfit. Her long braid trailed behind her as she stared at the pair she now faced. "I am Makimachi Misao, Okashira of the Kyoto Oniwabanshu! And you? Who are you?"

The moment she had stepped from the bushes, Kamatari had smirked. "Well, if it isn't the little girl from the inn in Kyoto! So you're the Okashira? The Oniwabanshu definitely deserves better."

"Oh! Shut up, you pervert!" Misao yelled, instantly recognizing the cross dresser. "I wasn't in full fighting form then! It'll never happen again!"

Sojiro looked from Misao, kunai drawn and ready to fire, to Kamatari, scythe raised in a ready pose. "You two know each other?" he asked innocently.

"You could say that," Kamatari responded, still frozen in place.

"Hey!" Misao yelled, tossing a kunai in Sojiro's direction. He dodged it easily. "I've seen you before, too! You were with that Shishio guy, weren't you? Himura sure beat him, though."

"Himura?" Sojiro asked, shocked. He vaguely remembered the girl from his first fight with Kenshin. She looked older now. "Oh, Himura-san! Yes, I sort of recognize you. A bit weasel-like, aren't you?"

"_WHAT!_"

"Hey, Tenken," Kamatari shot towards him. "You done talking? I've got a girl to defeat." He stuck out his tongue at the younger girl.

"_You're so dead!_" Misao yelled, flinging kunai everywhere. Sojiro quickly took shelter behind a tree, just barely watching as kunai flew past his head.

Kamatari yawned and whirled the scythe around, deflecting every dagger sent his way. "Didn't you try that before? When will you learn?" With another motion, Kamatari sliced towards Misao and laughed as she just barely avoided it. Before she could regain her balance, though, Kamatari whizzed the blade right next to her head, giving her a nice cut on her right shoulder.

"You!" Misao screamed, holding her bleeding shoulder with her other arm.

"Kamatari-san?" Sojiro asked, emerging from the tree, his blue kimono slightly torn from the barrage of daggers. "Please don't toy with her too much. She might get seriously hurt. You wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you?"

Kamatari shrugged. "What would another one matter? Oh, well. She's not worth my time, anyway. See you around, pipsqueak," he said as he walked away, scythe resting on his shoulder. This, of course, resulted in a horrible death glare from Misao and a few kunai flying through the air.

"Yeah, you'll see me all right," she muttered before turning to Sojiro. "What're you still doing here? _Get out of my woods_!"

Sojiro smiled. "If you insist." And then as he walked away, "You really should get someone to help you patrol." Then he was gone, out of sight from the poor girl left fuming in the forest.

"Get someone to help me?" she yelled after where he had disappeared. "NEVER!" Then, with a huff, Misao turned and stormed back towards the Aoi-ya, ignoring the kunai stuck in the trees around her.


End file.
